Home is where the heart is
by CD 003
Summary: For his studies to become a doctor, Will is doing an internship on the ER in a hospital in New York. One of the patients is not unknown to him... Just a cute Solangelo story ;)


_**Cliche** : 1825, "electrotype, stereotype," from French cliché, a technical word in printer's jargon for "stereotype block," noun use of past participle of clicher "to click" (18c.), supposedly echoic of the sound of a mold striking molten metal. Figurative extension to "trite phrase, worn-out expression" is first attested 1888, following the course of stereotype. Related: Cliched (1928). (_ _. ?term=cliche)_

 **So a cliché is something they could use multiple times, to make a story.  
For me, that's a big part of fanfiction. We use characters, storylines... from other authors and use it again in new stories.  
Some of these new stories just start with something we found and liked in a book (or movie or...) and add a lot of new elements,  
they haven't 'borrowed' much. But I also like the stories that are repeated over and over again,  
like Annabeth going to Goode, or Nico's three days in the infirmary.  
My wish, is to create a new cliché.**

 **That's why I wrote this: my first fanfic ever! So everyone, enjoy this Solangelo story!  
(Sorry for any language mistakes, English is not my mothertongue)**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own the Percy Jackson series.**

"Coffee! Oh brown heavenly liquid! Oh you bitter-strong ambrosia sent by the gods!  
You might think I'm crazy, talking to a cup of coffee like that. But hey! That's what severe exhausting can do to a human being. Why are you so tired, you might ask? Well… It's winter, the most common period for being sick. Not so strange, yes? But when you're working as a nurse on the ER-department in a New York hospital, it means double shifts and inhumanly working hours for the not-sick colegues... In front of me a young man is taking his bag to go home. He is one of the new internees, I guess his name is Will. For the short period of time I got to know him, I can tell he will become a very good doctor. He cares a lot about the patients, has a knack to make everyone feel comfortable, and judging the way he talks, he takes his studies very seriously.  
"Mumbling at your coffee again?" He asks playfully. How he still has the energy to chastise me after about 16 hours working, it's a mystery to me. How on earth isn't he reduced yet to a sleeping zombie? "I hope it gets me through the next few hours. My shift hasn't ended yet. Or should I say, my second shift…" He nods understandingly.  
Then with a crack, the intercom comes alive. "Fight between two streetgangs. A lot of severly wounded people. Get ready!" Heavy sigh. All hope on a quiet night is now in vain. The blond in front of me speaks again. "Guess I'm not going home yet… Should have taken some coffee too." Looking up, I see determination and concentration coming back to his face. Gone is the tired boy, longing to his bed after a very long day of work. Here stands a fierce knight, ready to fight for the lifes of his patients. (Blame my exhausting for the use of these excessive metaphors) We stand up and go to were the patients are brought in by the ambulances. As quickly as I'm capable of, I scan the patients to see who needs help most badly. A very small corner of my brain can't help but notice the black clothes, leather jackets, rough attire. Some are scolding or yelling. Typical streetgang. If I'd meet any of them outside, I would divert my gaze and try to go unnoticed. But here, they are wounded people, in need of my help. I rush towards the first. He barely moves and seems knocked out. I quickly check his pulse and sigh in relief when I feel the soft but steady beat. In the same time I see Will standing next to the patient next to me. Normally I wouldn't notice anything but my current patient, but I was alarmed by how Will reacted. For several seconds, he stood there, like he was frozen from shock. Luckily, he snapped quickly out of it. He placed his hand on the patient, while muttering something under his breath. I had seen him do this before, when he thought his patient was in a very bad shape. He once told me it was an old greek incantation to heal people.  
Since he seemed to have scrambled himself together again, I returned my focus to my own patient. The folowing hours passed in a rush. We sewed cuts, took bullets out of flesh and gave bloodtransfusions. Police officers surounded is, making sure no one of the patients could cause ruckus. Other people got arrested even before we got to mending them. Finally most were treated. In the mean time, my shift had ended, and so I could begin packing my things and go home.  
But before that, I made a quick tour wanting to see the people we helped today. And ok, I wanted to see if Will was still anywhere near, because I was a bit worried about his first reaction when the patients were brought in. This couldn't be the first time he had to look after criminals? Was it?  
Finally, I saw him sitting next to a bed. Looking closer, I saw he sat beside the same patient that had caused Will to freeze. He was a young man, probably around the same age as Will. He had very dark hair and looked extremely pale, almost like he could vanish each moment and disappear in thin air. I guess he must have had severe blood loss. The second thing I noticed, was Will sleeping. He must have dozed of while checking on the patient. Quietly I approached him and gave him a gentle tug. Slowly, he opened his eyes. Leaning closer, I whispered "Shouldn't you go home?" In response, he showed their intertwined hands and sleepily replied: "I am home."


End file.
